The door to our shared apartment slams against the thin plaster walls, reverberating through the main room causing my head to automatically turn to the door. My boyfriend of three years stands at the entrance, slipping his shoes off calmly. He emanates a dark aura, his eyes stone cold as they turn to towards me before looking away while he drags his work bag into our room. Something in me tells me something is wrong.

"Peter." A sigh draws out of me, I walk again towards him, hoping my eyes emanate the concern and love I feel for him so the horrible tension in the room could dissipate, "Peter." I whisper again, waiting patiently for a response.

He turns towards me, his darkened eyes a black pit as he glares back at me with an unprecedented hatred. I'm taken aback with the strength of it.

"Why didn't you tell me your ex has been approaching you?" Peter's voice is monotone, gravelled and ominous. My eyes widen at his question, suddenly recalling the Thursday before... my stomach goes nauseous at the memory.

I pick out my words carefully in my head, "It was something I didn't think was a big deal," A silence is there again, "He approached me last week and..."

"He kissed you, Lara."

I go absolutely stone cold, every bone, every muscle in me going stiff as my heart beats faster.

"I- he... how did you know?"

"That doesn't matter, what matters is that you've either been assaulted without telling anyone, or you've cheated." He spits out, though his eyes soften as he mentions possible sexual assault not wanting to make an uncomfortable environment for me to cave in. "Lara, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about." I say, tears clouding my eyes as I remember the vile I felt as his disgusting hands touched me. As he forced his lips on mine.

"Lara- now's not the time to be a stubborn ass!" His face immediately falling to regret as the final word leaves his mouth, even he seems taken aback. Peter reaches a hand out to me.

I flinch. "How can you say that?" I whisper, so quietly that even I don't recognise my voice. "I'm not, I'm not a stubborn ass. That's what he called me- you promised to not be like him! You know how he was. You- Peter..."

"Oh no, baby, no- I'm so sorry, shit, don't cry Lara, please can we just talk I can't stand knowing you were hurt when you kept silent about it- Lara where are you going!?"

I ignore his words as I rush out of our bedroom, slipping on my shoes to run out of the apartment out into the late autumn weather. Maybe it is immature- but my mind is too irrational and clouded with the wound ripped open to think properly.

But I realise as I stand cold in the middle of the street, how vulnerable I am when my stitches are taken out.